Time enough to do so when she has her affairs settled—if she can settle them. Lucy howled as tooth met bone, her arm clamped in the trap of Rhea’s huge canines. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. He regarded that perennial miracle of pinning with wrathful eyes. Nothing could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they had been summoned. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say.
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